Jefferson envisioned a pubic library much different from the libraries he knew. Few had the wealth to assemble large collections or sufficient personal contacts among the wealthy to take advantage of Virginia’s finest private libraries. Jefferson himself was happy to loan books to young men studying the law or others doing serious research, but such personal patronage was no way to ensure the proper dissemination of books and ideas in a democracy.
He had different models on which he might have based his public library. Though subscription libraries like the Library Company of Philadelphia offered shareholders greater collections of books than they could afford to assemble personally, the library companies were by no means egalitarian. Shares in most were fairly expensive, and membership was generally limited to the well-to-do. Not until the development of mechanics’ libraries and their ilk in the early nineteenth century did the subscription library idea embrace the working classes.
Circulating libraries, like the one William Aitken operated in Annapolis, were more democratic than the subscription libraries: books could be borrowed by anyone for a few pence each. As purely commercial ventures, these circulating libraries were subject to the laws of supply and demand, and they became known as places where sentimental readers could borrow the latest novels. Such libraries offered only modest opportunities for intellectual improvement.
Jefferson’s concept of a library differed significantly from these models. Like Aitken’s circulating library, the public library Jefferson imagined would be available to everyone. Like the Library Company of Philadelphia, it would contain a fine collection of books useful for promoting both democracy and intellectual inquiry. Unlike either, he foresaw a collection of books that would welcome everyone yet cost its patrons nothing. Jefferson’s idea of a public library created by and supported from public funds was well ahead of its time. True public libraries like the one he envisioned would not emerge until the mid-nineteenth century.
With all three of these bills, Jefferson conceived an educational system that was supported and perpetuated by the state. He recognized an inextricable relation between democracy and education. Each was essential to the other; together they were self-sustaining. Only a well-educated and informed citizenry could preserve and perpetuate democracy. Conversely, it was the responsibility of a democratic government to make sure that its citizens were well educated. The educational ideas Jefferson included as part of his revision of the laws of Virginia were too forward-thinking for their time. Though none were enacted, they contain the kernel of the modern American educational system.
CHAPTER 16
Lines of Communication
Among the legislation Jefferson drafted as part of his revision of the laws of Virginia is “A Bill for Establishing Cross Posts.” Its preamble clearly establishes the bill’s purpose. Intended to promote “the more general diffusion of public intelligence among the citizens of this commonwealth,” it would help Virginians keep in touch with friends, merchants, and legislators.1 Jefferson’s choice of words echoes the diction of “A Bill for the More General Diffusion of Knowledge.” Read in juxtaposition, similar phrases from the two prompt a question: how does the general diffusion of knowledge resemble the general diffusion of public intelligence?
Both require infrastructure: Knowledge can be diffused through the construction of schools and the establishment of a public school system; public intelligence, on the other hand, can be diffused through the establishment of an efficient postal system. By “cross posts” Jefferson specifically meant additional post roads branching off the main north–south route that ran through Virginia and connected it with the other American states. The network of post roads he had in mind was both local and continental in scope: it connected the western parts of Virginia with its eastern part and all of Virginia with the rest of the United States. A network of quality post roads represented state-of-the-art communication technology in Jefferson’s day, and he wanted to give Virginia the best system of communication possible.
In February 1779, Jefferson arranged to meet with his committee in Williamsburg to complete the revision of the laws. Since Pendleton was unable to reach Williamsburg, the committee came down to its last two members: George Wythe and Thomas Jefferson. Graciously, Jefferson gave Pendleton more credit than he deserved for his work on the revision. Pendleton’s absence may have facilitated what work was left: the fact that only Jefferson and Wythe remained to complete the task of revising the Virginia laws made the effort less contentious and more productive. Once teacher and pupil, now peers and friends, the two met daily to scrutinize the complete set of bills, 126 in all. They examined each bill sentence by sentence and further revised their text until both agreed on the entire manuscript.
The complete revision would not be presented to the Virginia legislature until June, but some of the bills would come before the House of Delegates earlier, including the bill for establishing cross posts. Convinced of their importance and anxious for their construction, Jefferson presented the bill to the House the third week of May. Many legislators found that the plan for establishing cross posts made good sense, and the bill passed the House the following week. It subsequently went before the Virginia Senate, which continued debating the bill into June, when the senators ultimately rejected it.
Returning to Monticello once he and Wythe had completed their lengthy revision of Virginia law, Jefferson discovered that the neighborhood had changed significantly during his absence. In January, the English and Hessian troops who surrendered at Saratoga had been relocated to Albemarle County. The rank-and-file, around four thousand strong, were housed in newly constructed barracks two hours away by horseback. Their leaders were allowed to take up residence locally. Major General William Phillips moved into Blenheim, Edward Carter’s estate. The Baron, that is, Major General Friederich von Riedesel, who commanded the Brunswick troops serving the British, moved into Colle, the estate of Jefferson’s next-door neighbor, Phillip Mazzei, whom Congress had sent to Tuscany to secure loans to aid the American war effort. Baron von Riedesel even arranged to have the Baroness and their three daughters join him at Colle.
War was much different then, and a clash between nations did not necessarily mean a clash between individuals. Once General Phillips and the Riedesels were settled, they invited the Jeffersons to a dinner party. Jefferson responded cordially: “The great cause which divides our countries is not to be decided by individual animosities. The harmony of private societies cannot weaken national efforts. To contribute by neighborly intercourse and attentions to make others happy is the shortest and surest way of being happy ourselves.”2 Soon, a pleasant social circle formed, which also included some of the officers living in the barracks: Baron de Geismar, Lieutenant Johann Ludwig de Unger, Lieutenant August Wilhelm du Roi, and Chaplain Kohle.
In terms of Jefferson’s literary life, perhaps none of the surviving papers documenting his interaction with the Hessian troops are more revealing than the list of books these men borrowed from Monticello.3 Father Kohle borrowed Origen’s Against Celsus. After Augustine, Origen was the most important of the early Christian theologians. His Hexapla, which presents different versions of the Old Testament in parallel columns, is considered the first attempt to create a polyglot Bible. Against Celsus, the most important defense of Christianity written in the early centuries of the church, demonstrates the spirit and power of Christianity. Jefferson remembered the work for its discussion of the controversy over the corporeality of God.4
The English stage occupied an important place in their literary discussions, too, gauging by the books listed. Unger borrowed the plays of Sir John Vanbrugh. Being both playwright and architect, Vanbrugh doubly earned Jefferson’s admiration. Vanbrugh’s buildings were better constructed than his plays, which he largely derived from popular French comedies. Jefferson’s opinion of the playwright has gone unrecorded. Lieutenant du Roi borrowed Jefferson’s copy of the dramatic works of one of the most popular comic Restoration playwrights, George
Farquhar, whose high-spirited yet good-natured plays put his work well above that of most other contemporary playwrights. His works were well known among colonial Virginia readers and theatergoers.
French works Unger borrowed reveal both his wide-ranging belletristic interests and his shrewd, practical bent: the three-volume edition of Jean-François Marmontel’s Contes Moreaux; the collected works of the influential French literary theorist Nicolas Boileau-Despréaux; and Étienne Bezout’s Cours de Mathématiques, which Jefferson called “the best for a student ever published.”5 A detailed textbook of mathematics and mechanics, Bezout’s Cours de Matheématiques was specifically directed toward those serving in the artillery. Unger’s interest in this work reveals his curiosity about both science and military service.
Writing to say goodbye to Unger, Jefferson confirmed the younger man’s personal and professional interests, encouraging his “fondness for philosophy” and recommending that he place his quest for scientific knowledge above his pursuit of military glory. As if puzzling over this very dilemma, Unger also borrowed Jefferson’s copy of Voltaire’s Candide. Jefferson’s library catalogue lists two partial editions of Voltaire’s collected works but does not name the specific titles they contained. This list of borrowed books confirms that he did indeed have a copy of Candide at Monticello. Voltaire’s masterpiece was a popular work in the neighborhood. Philip Mazzei also had a copy of Candide in his library at Colle, which the Baroness von Riedesel borrowed.6
All too soon, Jefferson’s seemingly endless legislative responsibilities took him away from the conviviality and cosmopolitanism his wartime neighbors provided. Reelected to the House of Delegates by the voters of Albemarle County in April, he returned to Williamsburg the first week of May 1779. The Virginia legislature had much urgent work to do that spring. Though Jefferson did not realize it, this legislative session would change his life drastically.
When the state constitution had been adopted three years earlier, it had reformed Virginia’s governmental system. Two houses of legislature were created, the House of Delegates and the Senate. Given the far-reaching powers that colonial governors had enjoyed and often abused, the new constitution placed significant restrictions on the executive branch of government, making the governor subject to a council of advisers. Jefferson, in Philadelphia working on the Declaration of Independence when the state constitution was passed, was unable to exert as much influence on it as he had wished. He believed that the adopted constitution made the governor far too dependent on both the legislature and his council of advisers. In addition, the new Virginia constitution stipulated that the governor could not serve more than three one-year terms consecutively. Partway through 1779, Patrick Henry, the first state governor, was reaching the end of his third term. It was time for the legislature to choose a new governor. In a joint session, the House of Delegates and the Senate gathered the first of June to cast their ballots.
The results of the election show the level of respect Jefferson commanded among his fellow legislators: he received the most votes on the first ballot, more than either of two old friends who were also on the ballot, John Page and Thomas Nelson, Jr. The results of the first ballot also show the limitations to the respect Jefferson commanded. Though he received more votes than the other two, he did not receive a majority. A runoff between him and second-place finisher John Page was held, and Jefferson bested his old college chum by six votes.
Page apparently felt no animosity after the election. The next day he went to his friend’s lodgings in Williamsburg to congratulate him on the victory, but Jefferson was not home. Since Page had to attend court at Gloucester the following day, he would be unable to congratulate the governor-elect properly. Thinking Jefferson might take offense at this unintentional slight, Page wrote a heartfelt letter to tell him that he should not “suspect that I am influenced by some low dirty feelings and avoid seeing you to conceal that Embarasment which might be the Result of them. I can assure you,” Page continued, “that I have such Confidence in your good Opinion of my Heart that were it not for the World who may put a wrong Construction on my Conduct I should scarcely trouble you with this Apology. I sincerely wish you all Happiness and will do every thing in my Power to make your Administration easy and agreeable to you.”7
Their friendship was too strong to let the vagaries of politics interfere with it, and Jefferson wrote Page the following day to reassure him: “It had given me much pain that the zeal of our respective friends should ever have placed you and me in the situation of competitors. I was comforted however with the reflection that it was their competition, not ours, and that the difference of the numbers which decided between us, was too insignificant to give you a pain or me a pleasure had our dispositions towards each other been such as to have admitted those sensations.”8
Jefferson had not campaigned for the governorship, and he accepted it with reluctance. When Richard Henry Lee congratulated him upon becoming governor, Jefferson responded without enthusiasm: “In a virtuous government, and more especially in times like these, public offices are, what they should be, burthens to those appointed to them which it would be wrong to decline, though foreseen to bring them intense labor and great private loss.” Responding to Baron von Riedesel, who had also written to congratulate him upon his election, Jefferson wrote, “Condolances would be better suited to the occasion.”9
Once again, his public sense of duty was drawing him away from a pleasant social and intellectual circle. Chosen by a group of democratically elected representatives and knowing full well that he had the leadership skills and administrative abilities to govern Virginia, he could scarcely refuse the position, though he understood what the governorship would mean in terms of the time it would take from his domestic pursuits and literary endeavors.
As governor, Jefferson was wary of using his new office to push through reforms without the sanction of the legislature. Though he remained convinced of the validity of his plan for an expanded system of post roads, for example, he made no effort to coerce the legislature into reconsidering the bill. Representative government meant too much to undermine decisions made by those elected by the people, even to introduce what he knew was good for the state and for the nation. Unlike Jefferson, a majority of Virginia senators in 1779 saw no urgency in establishing such a vast, and expensive, network of post roads. The proposed legislation was tabled indefinitely.
War changed the dynamic. In early 1780, the city of Charleston, South Carolina, was under siege, and the American forces there found themselves desperately in need of reinforcements from their French allies. By the middle of May that year, American military leaders were anxiously awaiting the arrival of the French fleet. Writing from military headquarters at Morristown, New Jersey, George Washington sent Jefferson a confidential letter informing him that he expected the French to arrive in a matter of weeks. Since Washington was unsure precisely when or where they would land, he wanted to make sure he would know whenever the French arrived wherever they arrived. Consequently, Washington suggested that men be posted at key positions along the coast and made arrangements to communicate the news of the French arrival as expeditiously as possible. He appointed Major William Galvan, a French volunteer, to take his message to Jefferson first and then to proceed to Cape Henry, where he would establish a lookout for the French fleet.
In his letter to Jefferson, Washington stressed the importance of maintaining the secrecy of Galvan’s mission and asked the governor to introduce the major to a confidant near Cape Henry with whom he could live. Washington emphasized the necessity of keeping Galvan “constantly informed of the operations in South Carolina … as he will be out of the common track of intelligence.”10 Washington’s words reminded Jefferson how inadequate the current tracks of intelligence were, especially during wartime.
While stressing the importance of efficient lines of communication, General Washington gave Governor Jefferson no specific directions how to establish them. Washington’s letter emphasized
the value of an efficient system of communication, not for the general diffusion of public knowledge but rather for the secret communication of military intelligence. Drafting a letter to introduce Major Galvan to a trustworthy person at Cape Henry, Jefferson grew even more convinced of the inadequacy of the current system of communication. In a letter to Galvan dated May 28, 1780, he informed him of the situation at Charleston but admitted that the latest intelligence from there was over a month old. Some of his information was even older than that. In fact, Charleston had fallen to the British two weeks earlier, but Jefferson had yet to learn of the defeat.
He did not wait to learn Charleston’s fate before instituting a new system for communicating military intelligence. He closed the letter to Galvan by telling him that whatever urgent news he had to communicate could travel from Cape Henry to Richmond within twenty-four hours.
Jefferson’s “Instructions to Express Riders between Richmond and Cape Henry” elaborates the system he put in place for the rapid communication of military intelligence. This document tells each express rider to proceed immediately to his station and “be there in constant readiness, never absenting yourself a moment from your quarters, nor suffering your horse to be out of your instantaneous command.” Jefferson also provided detailed instructions concerning how each express rider should handle a communiqué:
Whenever you shall receive from the express who will be placed next to you any letter or paper from me to Majr. Galvan you will proceed without a moment’s delay by night and by day and without regard to weather to carry it down to the next express station … And when you receive a letter or paper from Majr. Galvan to me you are to proceed in like manner with it to this place; always returning to your station, after the delivery, moderately but without delay. You are to give a receipt specifying the hour and minute at which you receive any such paper, and to take a like receipt from the express to whom you shall deliver it.11
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